


Terra Eternal

by dinoknightmyte



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Ships Only, F/F, Gen, M/M, Spectre Redemption Arc TM, diverges during season 2, earth never died... in my heart :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-12-09 09:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20992730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinoknightmyte/pseuds/dinoknightmyte
Summary: In another world, in another time, Spectre finds Earth long before Go has a chance at him.Revolver will always be number one, of course. But he's starting to think that there might be more than one way to protect him - and more than one way to prevent the complete destruction of the human race.





	1. Discovery

Years of hunting had led to this. Years of training; years of softening his heart to one particular man and hardening it to the rest of the world. Spectre regarded the little brown creature with something like disdain, though he kept his face even; best not to show his hand too early. “You’re the Earth Ignis, correct? You seem quiet, compared to your companions.”

It nodded. “I am socially awkward.”

Pathetic. “Of course you are. You’re not human. How could you understand the complexities of our communications?”

“I understand what people mean.” The Ignis looked up, met his gaze, and in those dead approximations of eyes there was something as hard as snakewood. “But it is difficult for people to understand what I mean. I struggle to get my point across. It is why I do not talk very much.”

“You _mean_ to distract me, as far as I can tell. Or to make me sympathize with you.” Spectre glared at it. “But make no mistake: whatever you want to call our relationship, Revolver comes first. I will defeat you. You may be delusional enough to think otherwise, but whatever we are, whatever binds an Ignis and a human, means nothing to me compared to him.” Compared to what he gave that scared little boy, waiting by where he’d been rescued, desperate for a reason to hold on in a world that had nothing left for him anymore.

The Earth Ignis shook its head. “No. There is no point in distracting you. Revolver is first for you. Aqua is first for me. You and I will duel in the end. I can’t stop that.” Though it looked almost sad, the Ignis stood up straight, raised its hand, and from the ether appeared one of his constructed companions, a sort of dryadic golem to hold his disk.

Something roiled in Spectre. The Dark Ignis had no need for such a thing — Playmaker did the job just fine for him. The Flame Ignis was the same way. But this Ignis — _his _Ignis — had no such companion; no flesh supported him, just wood. It had no need for him, just like he had no need for it. They had moved beyond the pathetic dependencies of their peers; in that, at least, he could see himself in the creature. But that was simply the nature of the Ignis. No need to concern himself over it. Even if it had been his living double, well, he’d been willing to die for the cause when they’d pinned their hopes on the Tower of Hanoi. Killing himself wasn’t much different.

Even so — _damn_, he was thinking too much — there was no sense in being rude. “What do you call them? I’d like to know who I’m dueling, since I can’t imagine you can do much on your own.”

“I’ve always thought of her as Alraune,” Earth replied. “But no one has ever asked before.”

“Alraune.” It didn’t matter. It didn’t. Just a matter of politeness; just a coincidence that the wood was patterned like a great cherry tree’s would be. The Ignis had likely picked the tree because of its majesty and beauty, a fact that even the most indolent, brainless human could see clearly. “So it’s two on one, then?”

“I cannot hold a Duel Disk on my own. If you would like someone to hold your Duel Disk for you, you can retrieve them. I won’t leave.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?” The creature was so far removed from life that it no longer understood a creature ought do anything for its own, how to fight for what scraps might fall. A tree grew towards the sun, no matter the cost; a human stole and begged and lied if that was what it took to be able to break bread in the evenings. That Spectre himself had abandoned those natural laws was simply evidence of the fact that he was truly devoted to the Hanoi; the Earth Ignis carried no such burden, had no purpose to what approximation of honor it acted on.

“No. I am an Ignis of my word. If you defeat me, my data will be yours to delete. If I defeat you, you must lay down your Disk and not duel again. There is little I can do to stop you from making another account, but I believe you are a man of your word as well.”

“You won’t take my consciousness data?” Spectre laughed. “Do you know anything about what I’ve done? I’m not complaining, but why would you ever trust _me_?” Not that there was any way he’d lose anyways, but that an AI he wanted to kill had more respect for him than any of his coworkers save Revolver was just patently ridiculous. Where the hell had the experiment gone wrong, creating something so absolutely pathetic?

“I trust you. You accept the rules. In addition, if I win, you must stop helping the Hanoi try to capture the Ignis through other means. You will retire.”

He looked at it, saw determination. Well, a pointless duel with essentially no risks was better than he’d expected, after seeing what the other Ignis were capable of. “Very well. Let’s get on with it, then; I’m sure we both have better things to do than chit-chat.”

The Earth Ignis nodded.

“Duel!” they both said, and for a moment, Spectre could almost see himself through the AI’s eyes.

* * *

It had been a long duel, longer than he’d expected. The Earth Ignis, like him, favored difficult-to-break boards and controlling traps and spells over the all-out attacks of some of their enemies; both of them had built a gameplan around forcing their opponents to slow down as they whittled away life points. It was an excellent strategy against the hyperaggressive decks most were playing nowadays.

But ultimately, only one of them had spent the past decade doing nothing but training for this day to come. The outcome was as plain as day.

“Link Summon! Link-4: Sunavalon Dryatrentiay!”

Spectre broke into a grin as his great mother-tree grew, as that precious symbol of what little family he had ever known came into blossom. Summoning her final form was always a risk; though she brought considerable power to his Thrashers, she, giving and gentle spirit that she was, offered a gift to her opponent as well: another Link Arrow with which to summon.

He didn’t even need to do it to break Earth’s field; his monsters were pathetic before his considerable collection. One 3200 point Thrasher could do most of the job on its own; a second from his hand would be enough without any extra Link Arrows required. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to see her, needed, for a moment, to be beneath her again. To remember those beautiful springs.

“She’s beautiful,” Earth said, and Spectre froze. “I missed her.”

The Ignis weren’t supposed to have their memories. What happened during the Incident itself, they might remember, but not what happened before. There was no way. It was lying. There was truth coming off it in waves and it seemed too stupid to fake it and its wavering expression was the same as his own the first time he saw her card and knew she was still looking out for him and it still _had _to be lying and fuck, shit, it wasn’t lying.

“How do you—“

It was so obvious.

Of course it remembered her; _Spectre__’d _remembered her, brought her to the forefront of his mind — of that branching point, of _their _mind, his and the Ignis’s — every day. It had never sat below her boughs, never taken comfort from her physical presence. But it knew her all the same, like the Dark Ignis must’ve known Playmaker’s time at the orphanage, like the Fire Ignis must have some recollection of Soulburner’s parents.

He felt sick.

“She’s not yours to remember!” The idea of this creature _recollecting _on her, _caring _about her, was nauseating. No one had, no one but him; Ryoken was kind enough to listen, but he didn’t _understand_. And the idea that someone did...

“I know. But I understand that she loved you. I wanted someone to love me too.”

And then he was a child again: five years old, shaded beneath her boughs on another trip, alight and alive in the only place where he mattered. He had given up on humanity by then, had often fantasized about running away and living off the forest, was pushing himself to learn to read faster so he could look through the survival books and learn tricks he’d never thought of. He could tie better and better knots by the week, had learned the easiest parts of foraging. He was becoming what he wanted to be.

There had been something in him back then, something he’d lost: a sense that it mattered that someone cared about him, a sense that he was more than what he could do, a sense of belonging beyond the coldness of _purpose_.

It hadn’t been the Hanoi that had taken it from him. He knew Playmaker must’ve thought that, but all they’d done was pick up the pieces after life had torn him to shreds, given him the strength to carry on when he wanted to rot in the ground. It hadn’t been the Lost Incident, not at first. It had been, like so many children, the death of his mother. He knew that, had known that for years.

And this Ignis, at some level, understood.

“I wish you could have met her. She would’ve loved you.” He forced his voice to remain even. “It’s been a good Duel, but this is the end! I Normal Summon Sunseed Genius Loci, which I’ll use to Link Summon a second Sunvine Thrasher! By its effect, its points increase to 4000!”

Spectre took a deep breath. “Battle! The stronger of my Thrashers attacks your Dolman! Then, the smaller of my Thrashers attacks your Crystal Heart!”

“Crystal Heart!” The Ignis, previously resolute, shuddered, looked scared. Looked like—

Spectre moved without thinking. “From my hand, I activate the Quick-Play Spell, Sunvine Mercy! This battle, neither monster is destroyed, then I gain life equal to the amount of damage both players have taken this turn! I also prevent any damage that would be done to me — but not to you!”

It didn’t matter — Earth’s points still ticked down to 0; the shrill buzzer still called the end of the Duel. But he thought he saw a smile on the Ignis’s face as its data was absorbed into his Duel Disk, Alraune disappearing alongside it.

_How could something like him bring about the end of mankind_? he wondered, and didn’t even stop to consider how quickly the Ignis has ceased to be an _it _in his mind. On a bad day, Spectre might’ve characterized himself as interested in the extinction of humanity, but none of that rage seemed to exist in his... descendant? Child? Brother? He wasn’t sure of the word.

Clearly, he and Revolver needed to have a talk. If it came down to it, he would do his duty — but they needed any advantage they could get. Lightning was no pushover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> konami pls print sunvine/sunavalon as a full archetype so I can stop making up cards for them and start actually playing them :,(


	2. Decisions

“Sir, I’ve been thinking.”

Ryoken quirked an eyebrow. “I’m always interested in your opinions. Would you like to discuss your recent mission?”

“It’s sort of about that. Have you ever looked at the Ignis simulations on an individual level?”

He shook his head. “It never occurred to me. If six would collectively destroy all of humanity, it seems implicit that you wouldn’t want any of them around.”

“Well, yes, but couldn’t you say that about the Hanoi? We created the Ignis, so we’re just as responsible for what they do. But if you went back in time and changed one mind, or stopped one man, the rest of us would’ve never done a thing.”

Ryoken shot him a sharp look. They’d never really _talked _about this before; Ryoken spoke and he listened. “Why does it matter?”

“We’re not strong enough to defeat the Dark Ignis.”

“We—“

“Think about it logically, sir. You lost to Playmaker and the Dark Ignis already. Playmaker won’t betray it to you. You have very little hope of ever beating them in a Duel, and even if you fought unfair, he has allies in difficult places to fight unfair right back. And he can always simply go offline. If he turns off his networked connections and takes the Ignis somewhere, we’re fucked. We’re five fugitives with a boat.”

“We broke into a prison, didn’t we?”

“Because everything was crazy networked there. Idiots don’t even know how to airgap. Playmaker does.”

Ryoken looked like he wanted to say something, expression sharp, shoulders tense — but when he finally did, there was no cruelty in his voice. “Is your proposition that we run simulations to determine which Ignis pose the greatest threat, and offer peace to the rest in return for assistance eliminating them?”

He nodded. “Or imprisoning them until we can remove the dangerous behavior from their code. The Hanoi are already moving away from our creed with the Pandor Project, not that it’ll be done in time to make a difference against the Light and Wind Ignis. If the simulations show the Ignis are individually dangerous, of course, we’ll keep our course.”

“Did you terminate the Earth Ignis?”

“He’s in my Duel Disk.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Ryoken was going to start catching flies if he kept gaping, an expression so foreign to his face that Spectre would’ve laughed, had the situation not been so dire. His instincts warred: simper, back away, do _something _to show that he was still loyal to Revolver, to Ryoken, first and foremost. But he had already shown his hand. Not playing it would reflect even worse on him.

“Why? You knew your mission.”

He stood up straighter, kept the calm stoicism he tried to live up to. “I had my doubts about the dangerousness of this Ignis. Terminating it would end any chance of peace. And Playmaker was not nearly as fine a Duelist before he began using Cyberse cards, which almost certainly came from an Ignis. I’m not skilled enough to win against our current foes, and I thought it might be able to assist in my Dueling abilities.” He let his voice creak, sound just slightly vulnerable: “I want to be useful to you.”

Revolver looked at him, really looked, but those piercing blue eyes that had once felt like they were tearing into him and building him back up at once now felt like... well, not nothing, certainly not nothing, but survivable. “The Ignis are a danger to humanity.”

“Collectively. But so were the Hanoi, weren’t we? We created them.”

“How do you know the simulations would be worth anything? There are more factors now than there were before, more complexities. We know two mean to go to war with us.”

Spectre shrugged. “How do we know the original ones were worth anything? If the simulations were perfect, there would be no point to the Hanoi anyways; we could simply predict their Dueling behavior perfectly and devise a program that could counterplay. There is an unpredictable element of some sort with the Ignis, which means that if they’re doomed to violence, it should be readily apparent.”

“You would risk the fate of humanity for that? You would risk dooming a species for your doubts?”

“Aren’t we dooming a species no matter what we do?” Spectre looked away. “If there’s uncertainty, if you’re not positive after running them that we can do this safely, you mean more to me than anything. You’ll come first. All I’m saying is that we need to be careful. If we continue as we are now, we can’t destroy the Ignis anyways. We may as well take that seriously.”

“You would have me abandon my father’s legacy?”

“I would have you make something valuable out of what happened.” He took a deep breath, though he didn’t need to; best to look like he was on the verge of falling apart, though his heart was as hardened as it had ever been in his life. “We suffered for a purpose. Why throw that purpose away without due diligence? It seems more disrespectful to him, to us, to yourself, than it would be to try and fail.”

“It’s not about him. It’s never been about him.” It was a pointless lie, because it had only ever been about him, and by _God _did they both know it. Dr. Kogami was essentially the only reason either of them had a purpose at all. Spectre could not, did not want to, imagine a life where he was never taken, did not want to wonder at whether he would even still have one.

Spectre didn’t need to respond. But he reached out a hand, pulled Revolver into what he hoped was some approximation of a comforting gesture, hands against his back.

It was easy to pretend they were normal, for a moment, typical brothers or maybe best friends. It was easy to exist in the quiet and to think about a world where all he needed to do to convince Ryoken was to explain that this was what Ryoken himself wanted, because in that fantasy Ryoken was still driven by his own desires, had not lost that beautifully organic drive that even Spectre himself remembered. A world where _we could work with Playmaker_ would be an _incentive_, if not reason enough on its own, and not the source of hours and hours of agonizing.

Ryoken didn’t cry. He hadn’t cried since he’d learned to fight for his beliefs. He didn’t cry since he had learned to be cruel. He didn’t cry now, though he must’ve been wanted to. But he shook in Spectre’s arms, and that was enough.

Spectre could only imagine the feeling of the one person you could truly rely on, your only peer, questioning what you’d built your castle on. It was the sort of thing he’d feel guilty over, but if he could free Ryoken from _needing _to feel this way, wasn’t that better?

Ryoken didn’t respond when he pulled himself away, just motioned for Spectre to leave, apparently no longer strong enough to handle this conversation.

But when Spectre returned to his side three hours later with fresh coffee, he found his leader, his best friend, the man he so often called _sir _for... many reasons, but chief among them a complete inability to comprehend what exactly they were, pouring over a new version of his father’s old code.

“Spectre,” he said, and he sounded almost hollow. “We may have made a mistake.”

“I know,” he replied, “but this time around, we can fix it.”

* * *

Ryoken threw himself into work after their exchange; it was all Spectre could do to force him to eat. There was very little he could actually do to help — he barely understood what Ryoken was even trying to accomplish with his creation, let alone how he was going about doing so. So he made meals three times a day and served them in the office. He carried Ryoken to bed when he collapsed from exhaustion. He kept the boat clean. He kept everyone up-to-date on Playmaker and Soulburner and Lightning and Blue Angel and the ever-growing crowd of those who insisted on inserting themselves into the issue.

And when there was legitimately no more for him to do, he secluded himself in the Faraday-shielded portion of the lower deck and activated his Duel Disk.

“You didn’t delete me,” Earth said, the first time Spectre allowed him to gain consciousness.

“No. We are considering other approaches to the Ignis issue.” There was a sudden rush of emotion, looking at the creature, and it made his brain itch, his skin crawl. That _this _was the end sum of all that purpose, all that drive, he’d once known, that _this _was why time had started for him, that _this _was the sum total of all he was. “I was hoping to pick your mind on the subject.”

“I won’t help you hurt Aqua, or the others. I would rather die than betray them.”

“I understand. Our goal is to determine _what _it is that has led to the Ignis becoming radicalized in our simulations. Your behavior is not consistent with our expectations.”

“You thought we would act like Lightning is.” He nodded, appraising. “I apologize if I am not helpful. I am socially awkward.”

He couldn’t help it — Spectre laughed. “...You and me both. Do you know why the Light Ignis is acting like this?”

He shook his head. “No. Lightning has always been an Ignis of conviction, but I don’t know why he’d go so far. He is a good leader, so I was uncertain of what to do. What is your plan?”

“Whatever Ryoken decides on. He’s still researching the issue. It seems that a broader simulation has indicated some of the Ignis are unlikely to pose any kind of threat, including you. If it was necessary to terminate all of you to ensure his safety, I would do it in a heartbeat, but I don’t think either of us believe that anymore. I just wish that the Light Ignis hadn’t stolen its Origin’s consciousness data — I’m told he was slowly recovering from his catatonia, and he might’ve had insight into whether his experience in the Hanoi project was different.”

“Hm. Well, Lightning is a very cruel Duelist. It may have had an impact.”

“Why would that matter? We dueled a computer, not you guys.”

The Earth Ignis didn’t reply for a moment, just gave him an odd look, but eventually it found its words. “Our early iterations controlled the computer Duelists sometimes. It was before we were conscious of non-Dueling things, for the most part. At least, it was for me. But I learn slowly.”

“Oh.”

“I apologize for any pain I may have caused you.”

Spectre shook his head. “Don’t. Even then, it didn’t bother me. And now that we’re coming to find that some of the Ignis may be forces for a better future, I’m even gladder that it happened. Thanks for the intel.”

“Wouldn’t your Knights already know? I was under the impression they helped in the experiment.”

Spectre shrugged. “Maybe. They were a big part of it — Genome gave me a lot of details once when he got drunk and weepy — but Kogami did all the stuff that involved actual Ignis contact.”

“You don’t speak very positively of him, for someone who loves the Hanoi so much.”

“Not much gets by you, hm? As I’ve said, Ryoken comes first. I haven’t had the impression that Kogami did well by him, and his leadership in the Tower incident was disastrous for all of us. We’re in a much more strategic position now that he’s gone, and—“ He shook his head. Why was he telling the Ignis all this? There was something about the creature that made him want to open up, but goddamnit, he didn’t need all the sordid details.

Didn’t need to know what it felt like to see the man’s face uncovered in VRAINS for the first time, a step Ryoken could only make with his father gone from the world. Didn’t need to know how Ryoken would stand firm in his Kogami’s presence, only to shake and tremble when it was once again just the two of them.

“I understand. I will help you against Lightning. I have learned he attacked Ai and Flame. We need to stay together. But I hope you can show them mercy.” The Earth Ignis — no, just Earth — looked at him, and when their eyes met he once again saw himself through the other’s eyes.

He didn’t hate what he saw. That would have to be enough for now.

* * *

“I propose an alliance,” Ryoken told Playmaker. Spectre wondered if he felt as confident as he looked. “We have expanded on my father’s research on the dangers the Ignis pose, and have found the Light Ignis poses the greatest danger. As long as it, and the Ignis that align with it, are removed, we will not bother those who remain.”

Soulburner eyed them, expression taut, gaze sharp, but Playmaker seemed to soften at the words. “Is that why you didn’t delete Earth?”

Ryoken nodded. “Yes. The Earth Ignis has promised its loyalty in exchange for the protection of its innocent comrades.”

“Why should we believe you? Why would you think any Ignis was different from any other? I thought they were all the same to you.”

It was a fair question, but Soulburner’s words still made his blood boil. Ryoken seemed to pause a moment before continuing — considering his options, perhaps? “In its nascency, the Light Ignis was permitted to take a role in its own growth by controlling the VR system used by its human origin during the Hanoi Project. It entered a cycle of problematic behavior not uncommon in algorithms that change their training sets, resulting in it stunting both itself and its Origin. In essence, it is underdeveloped.”

“That must be why it stole Jin’s consciousness data.” Playmaker looked wholly unsurprised at the revelation, still and calm. Soulburner was less so, but he was making a good effort at faking it — shaking hands and darting eyes aside. Spectre would give him a B.

“Likely. It’s possible it wants to expand its capabilities by pulling from his data, but it’s unlikely to find anything, given his condition.” Ryoken shook his head. “We’re uncertain about the situation with the Wind Ignis, but there’s reason to believe it may have been reweighted - in essence, its program has been altered. I’ve tasked the Knights with attempting to retrieve for us the data that would allow the error to be corrected, but if they’re unable to, we may need to terminate it, as well.”

Playmaker shook his head. “No. We won’t terminate any of them. Duel disks can capture them safely, at which point you and I will research how we can fix the problem.”

“I thought you might say that, but we can’t afford to be soft. We—“

Soulburner bunched a fist. “They’re alive! You can’t just _murder _people!”

“Of course they’re alive. The people endangered by the Tower of Hanoi were alive, too. Sometimes sacrifices are needed.”

“Bullshit! You just don’t want to take responsibility and put in the work to—“

Playmaker put a hand on Soulburner’s shoulder. “It’s not negotiable. So the question is, which is more dangerous to humanity: each of us working separately, weakening us and giving Lightning the ability to pick us off one by one, or allowing him to exist in stasis until we can determine how to prevent him from causing harm?”

It was an easy question for Spectre. But he was still relieved when Ryoken let out one of his long-suffering sighs. “Have it your way. But if it escapes, I’ll show it no mercy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
